Fade to Black
by silvergryphon06
Summary: The Institute has a new instructor and she is about to turn it and Logan's life upside down. Watch as romance blossoms and hilarity follows
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own nothing, other than Anaria

Disclaimer: I own nothing, other than Anaria.

A/N: I hope you enjoy this story as much as I am enjoying writing it. Please feel free to read and review, but please no flames. Enjoy!

Prologue

Professor Xavier was bent over his desk, writing notes in his bold scrawl, when there was a knock at the door. He opened it silently with a wave of his hand and kept writing. When he felt a new presence near his desk he carefully placed down his pen and looked up with a smile.

"It's wonderful that you have decided to join us, my dear."

The young woman arched a brow suspiciously and, with a thick Southern accent, drawled,

"Have you been inside my head again, sir?"

The Professor shook his head, his smile unwavering.

"Why else would you be here?"

Seemingly satisfied, she unceremoniously dropped her duffle bag to the floor and sat down. Clear grey eyes studied him acutely and he allowed it. After all, a young woman with her history was bound to find anyone or anything suspicious upon first inspection. She took a deep breathe and smiled back at him.

"Indeed, I have done quite a bit of thinkin' and I came to the conclusion that I don't have much choice. You were right, sir. I need a home and a steady income. I accept your generous offer, sir."

He waved his wand dismissively.

"Please, Charles will do. I appreciate your manners, Ms. Black, but you're making me feel quite old."

Her quiet laughter was like a summer breeze, warm and light.

"Then, please, call me Anaria. I am too young, myself, to be given any proper title other than that."

It was Xavier's turn to arch a brow.

"Really? Then what is your mutant name?"

She rose from her seat and gathered her bag, tossing its bulky mass over her shoulder like it weighed nothing. She a smile and a wink, she turned on her heel, boots making not a sound against the plush carpet. She stopped at the door and tossed him a playful wink.

"The name's Fade Black."

When she had gone, Xavier sat behind his desk once again, a ghost of a smile still on his lips. He knew he had made the right choice in recruiting her. He sent a message to Storm to greet their guest and escort her to her quarters. His amused chuckle went unheard as he acknowledged that life at the Institute was about to get turned on its head.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Chapter One

Anaria waited patiently in the foyer for the woman called Storm. When the elegant mutant walked in, Anaria was amazed. This woman didn't walk; she flowed. Her movements were graceful and it was breathtaking. She wished she could be that poised, but, probably so did 80 of the rest of the feminine world. Not forgetting her manners, she warmly shook the other woman's hand.

"You must be Storm."

"And you are the infamous Fade Black."

Anaria blanched at that and nodded.

"I see my reputation precedes me."

Storm laughed and shook her head.

"It is not such a bad reputation, unless there is something the Professor did not tell me."

Panic flashed and then was gone just as quickly in Anaria's mind. Not letting her smile falter, she shook her head.

"I'm sure the Professor has harped on my abilities long enough to annoy you. And please, call me Anaria."

The older woman cocked her head and her smile was serene.

"You hide much, but I suppose that is your right. Still, I am pleased to call you Anaria. It is a gorgeous name. I am Ororo."

"Thank you, Ororo, I like yours too."

Storm laughed again and motioned Anaria to follow her.

"You are direct and I like that. There are not enough adult women in the school and I am pleased to have another female instructor. It will help balance against Logan."

Anaria's lip quirked.

"He must be something if it takes two women to keep him in check."

"Indeed. You will meet him soon enough. Just be prepared, he is quite…abrasive."

Anaria barked out a laugh and Storm was startled.

"Honey, you don't have to be nice about him just for my sake. Where I'm from abrasive equates to somebody being an aggravating sumbitch that needs an ass whoopin'! Trust me, I have enough brothers to know 'em and was raised amongst 'em long enough to learn how to give it to 'em."

Storm looked uncertain how to respond and Anaria patted her arm in a friendly manner and gave her a lopsided grin.

"Don't worry, I can hold my own and I promise you that I do have manners. It's just that I'm not used to people having manners back. I apologize if I was…abrasive."

Storm couldn't help but smile.

"There is no need and I think you will give Logan quite a surprise when you meet him. You're description of him is accurate; he is in desperate need of an ass whoopin', as you say. Perhaps it will take him down a few pegs."

Anaria's smile was slightly predatory.

"I'm just the woman to give it to him."

Anaria was a woman that made fast decisions and she was certain of two things. Ororo was going to become a great friend and her new quarters were just spectacular! She dropped her duffle bag on a chair in the corner and stretched. She had a big bed, a big closet, and an even bigger bathroom. She immediately noted the generous size of the tub and the large corner shower. She was going to love this place. She turned to Ororo and grinned from ear to ear.

"I love it! Are all the rooms like this?"

Storm shook her head.

"No, just the instructors'. Just don't tell the students, they will protest loudly, especially my nephew."

Anaria rolled her eyes as she put away what few belongings she possessed.

"Teenagers, bah! I remember being one and I'm relieved that I only had to go through it once."

Carefully, she placed a picture of her family on her nightstand, along with her brush and notebook. Her meager collection of clothes barely took up any space in her closet, not to mention the one drawer she used for undergarments. She would have to make a shopping excursion after she got her first paycheck. Satisfied, she turned once again to Ororo and cocked her head.

"Alright, now, where can I meet the rest of the X-Men?"

"Hank is probably holding class right now, but Logan is more than likely in the Danger Room. Care to drop in on him?"

Anaria's smile was once again predatory.

"Drop in? Oh, honey, I intend to fully introduce myself. Lead the way."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Logan grunted as he dodged yet another steel beam. In spite of all his skills, Magneto was a pain in the ass, even in the Danger Room. He could hear the metallic hum as the armor-clad mutant floated by on a giant metal disk, his head swiveling this way and that. Logan lay flat on his belly, his muscles taunt with anticipation. He counted slowly; waiting for the opening he knew was there. Magneto started to float in another direction when the Wolverine sprang. Claws extended, he threw himself against the bulkier man, both of them crashing to the hard packed dirt.

With the savagery of the beast he was named for, Logan sliced his claws across Magneto's chest, and then jumped back. That was too easy a kill. Logan wanted a little sport, not the hum drum of normal routine. He could kill Magneto a thousand times over this way and it was getting damned boring. With a sigh, he ran a hand through his dark hair and waited for the hologram to fade away.

Anaria watched the fight from her position in the control room. Fascinated by the stocky warrior below, she felt admiration and a slight thrill. Now there was a man that could be fun. He was muscular, but not overtly so and those blue eyes blazed even from this distance. She turned to Ororo and grinned.

"Don't turn it off just yet. Let me go down and get a warm up."

Catching her drift, Ororo nodded slyly and Anaria dashed off, boots clunking against the tile floors.

Logan was just getting impatient when he heard a whiskey warm, southern voice behind him.

"Hey there sugar, wanna play with me?"

Logan whipped around, claws out and stopped. Ocean grey eyes bored into his blue ones. She was shorter than he was, but her combat boots gave her enough height that she was on eye level with him. Honey brown hair fell in waves and unruly curls across her shoulders. She wasn't thin, but her curves were full and deliciously so. His eyes roamed their way down, noting the washed out jeans and blue t-shirt, then back up to her pretty face. He smirked slightly and retracted his claws.

"I don't play with strangers, missy."

Those grey depths flashed lightning and that was his only warning. She vanished right before him and then he heard that same husky voice close to his ear.

"They call me Fade Black."

And then he felt a hard blow to the gut. He grunted and doubled over. So she wanted to play? Fine. His hand darted out and grabbed what felt like denim. Twisting his wrist, he yanked and spun, sending her flying. She faded back into view, amazingly still on her feet. He growled,

"Wolverine."

He launched, extending his claws. If a game was her intent, then he was going to make damned sure she knew who she was playing with. She easily sidestepped him, smiling fiercely. He found himself entranced by that smile. It was feral and he found it kinda sexy. Then her boot connected with his jaw. He was thrown back and he twisted his body, claws digging into the dirt. She had decked him a good thirty feet. Logan felt his blood quicken in excitement. Finally, here was someone worth sparring with.

He grinned ferociously and sheathed his claws before standing up. He eyed her carefully.

"You're too old to be a student."

"I'm not. I'm the new instructor Xavier recruited."

Logan nodded.

"Good. That means I won't get in trouble for a few bruises."

He charged, but she only faded again. He ran right through the spot where she had been. He screeched to a halt and turned. She came back into view, several yards from where she had been. Super strength and invisibility, eh? An interesting combination, but what else was she capable of? This was getting better and better.

Anaria watched Logan. He was handsome, in a scruffy, rugged kind of way. But, more importantly, he was deadly. Without much knowledge, she could already see that he was a master of hand-to-hand combat and she would bet her last pair of undies that he was a black belt to boot. Those claws were wickedly sharp and she itched to study them more closely. Well, if he needed blades, then so did she. He didn't even blink when her black daggers slid into her hands. They were twin blades, pure obsidian in color and hard as diamonds. Serated and curved, they resembled talons more than knives. He was stoic, she'd give him that.

Shifting her feet, she braced herself and waited for his strike. He was impatient, liked to throw the first punch. That was fine by her, she preferred to wait and watch anyway. She didn't see his feet move. Hell, she barely registered that her arms had crossed defensively in front if her. Metal against metal shrieked in her ears as his claws met her blades. He grinned for a split second before he brought his other hand up and slashed across her belly. She twisted, pulling her blades free from his claws and barely missed being gutted. She heard her shirt rip and looked down. Three jagged lines cut a crimson swathe up her abdomen, tracing fire; first blood. She ignored it. She faded out again and silenced the room. Even though he couldn't see or hear her anymore he was still dangerous. Anaria had an almost psychotic grin as she whirled her blades skillfully. Payback is such a bitch.

Logan noted the absolute silence. He couldn't even hear his own breathing anymore. Carefully, he crotched low, his leg muscles tense and burning. He took in a deep breath and the smell of raspberries filled his nostrils. He turned his head, following the scent. It was actually a little pleasant. It wasn't strong, almost like a whisper, soft and warm. He rotated his body, until he was fairly sure he had pinpointed the source. He leapt sideways, hoping to catch her off guard long enough that she dropped the invisibility. He wasn't quick enough, he decided, as he felt a burning in his side. She was on him then, blades dancing. He blocked and caught one with his claws. Flicking his wrist, he sent it spinning, only mildly surprised when another one appeared out of no where. He threw his weight forward, trying to force her down with his sheer mass. She did drop, but only to swing out a leg and take a swipe at his feet. He easily evaded it, but then her foot seemed to change gears and she kicked up, catching him in the crotch. he howled silently in pain and rage. His hands shot down and grabbed her roughly about the shoulders, pulling her up to look her in the eyes. He noticed that he could hear again and so he growled low, his voice dangerous.

"Enough. I don't want to be the one to tell Charles his new instructor got killed."

Suddenly, the room transformed back into the sterile, metal area it actually was. He looked at her bloody stomach and nodded. They were even. He released her, both of them knowing full well she could have broke free if she had wanted too. He held out his hand, this time for a handshake.

"The name's Logan."

She took it firmly and smiled. If she was in pain, she didn't show it.

"Anaria."

He snorted and looked up as Ororo entered the room. That damned woman was quieter than a skulking cat. He scowled and waited for the lecture that was bound to come forth, but she simply smiled and placed a hand on Anaria's shoulder.

"That was an impressive display. I see now what it is that intrigued Charles to begin with."

Anaria laughed easily and the sound carressed him, indeed like warm whiskey.

Logan mentally shook off the feeling and his brows furrowed in suspicion.

"Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

She eyed him coolly.

"I imagine the same place you did, in the military. But I don't see where that's any of your business."

Her accent was pronounced, but it wasn't annoying like the Cajun's. He nodded tersely.

"Fair enough. You're a decent enough fighter too, I guess, though you strike me as a rookie."

He was baiting her and they both knew it. She accepted the criticism without much reaction. He was almost disappointed when her foot connected with his stomach. The air whooshed out of him and he bent over, panting. He looked up in time to see her shapely ass stride out the door, but her whiskey voice called back.

"You should know rookies have poor reactions to criticism then."

He grinned. Damn, but he liked her.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Anaria woke the next morning sore and irritable, which wasn't all that unusual. A man who had just drank sour milk after a five mile run was in a better mood than she in the mornings. Groggily, she stumbled to the shower, sighing as the scalding water hit her face. She made quick work of washing her body and hair and stepped out in a billowing cloud of steam. Goose bumps pebbled her flesh and she wrapped herself in a large, fluffy white towel. That was much better. With a grim determination that only women with long, thick hair could understand, she began the agonizing process of detangling her curls. Wincing in pain and feeling heat rise in her face from irritation, she put her brush back down and sat on the edge of her bed. She looked at her family picture with odd detachment. She missed them, of course, but there was no sense of loss where there should be. That photo only made her weary.

Another deep breath and she stood to get dressed. It was a meager collection, but it didn't really bother her other than she didn't have anything that she considered a professional outfit. Shrugging, she donned a burgundy button down shirt and tucked it into her only pair of dress pants. She refused, however, to give up her combat boots. English may have been her subject, but being prepared was acceptable, wasn't it?

_Yeah, right. Like enemies are going to waltz right in and attack the most well fortified school in the country._ She really hated her logical half.

_Well, it could happen, and probably would if I didn't wear my boots._

She could almost see that little logic gremlin smirk.

_And if a frog had wings, it wouldn't bump its ass._

Irritated again, she jerked them on defiantly and slammed her door behind her. God help anyone who would be between her and her breakfast this morning.

The kitchen was large and accommodating, breakfast having already been prepared earlier. Gratefully, she helped herself to a pile of strawberry waffles. She was about to wolf it down when Senor Grouchy Ass himself stumbled in. She paused in mid bite to look at him. He was disheveled, his eyes dark and a scowl marred his face. She waved cheerfully at him and he snarled something incoherent at him. Anaria stifled her snort and ate her waffles, keeping an eye on Logan. Honestly, did the man have any sense of hygiene? Deciding she was feeling good enough to be a royal bitch this morning she turned to look at him.

"How was your night, Logan?"

He nodded shortly as he poured a cup of coffee.

"Did you sleep well?"

He nodded again, his shoulders tensing the only hint he was irritated. Anaria stood and went to the large, bay windows. She enthusiastically threw back the curtains; bright sunshine viciously attacked the rooms' shadows, driving them away and leaving a

dazzling, happy atmosphere in its wake. She was such a spiteful person, gleefully listening to Logan's curses.

"Dammit woman! What the hell did you do that for?"

Her voice was southern syrup.

"Why, Logan, sugar, don't you know how healthy sunshine is for you?"

With that parting shot, she picked up her plate, flashed him a pretty smile, and sauntered out the door, leaving him stunned in her wake.

Her first class wasn't that bad. The students were pleasant and welcoming. Albeit, some paid more attention to her ass than her lesson, but overall it was a good morning. There were quite a few young mutants that were very bright, and she had especially enjoyed Kitty and Jean's interest in Beowulf. Now, if Scott quit staring at Jean long enough to pay attention, he could do very well. Gathering, her things, she strode down the hallway, nodding to the students and smiling in a friendly manner.

Most smiled back, one boy with a blonde Mohawk, though scowled at her and slammed his door. Her smile faded and she raised her chin a touch. When she walked past, his brown eyes were hostile as he stepped right into her path. She was eye level with him and gave him her iciest glare. He glared back and she noticed his cocoa skin ripple. She cocked her hip out and crossed her arms loosely.

"Excuse me, I need to get by."

"No, I don't think you do."

She raised an eyebrow and she smirked. His glare slipped and he looked puzzled.

"Why don't you move out the way, sugar, and I'll give you a candy bar."

He did exactly what she knew he would. His nostrils flared and he tensed. Spikes ripped out of his skin and he punched at her. She caught his fist, spikes puncturing her palm. Mentally, she shrieked, but only her eyes tightened on her face. He had just enough time to register shock before she began to squeeze. The boy screamed as she slowly closed her fist around his, bones and spikes popping under the pressure. Sweat beaded on his forehead as she leaned down to get close, her voice so low, his pain fogged brain hardly able to process her words.

"I suggest you move out of my way now. I think you might want to get that hand looked at."

He nodded and she released her grip. She gasped inaudibly and they both clasped their hands to their chests.

_Professor, could you please tell me where the nurse's office is?_

_What happened, Adriana?_

_Little run in with a disgruntled student._

He gave her directions and promised to look into the matter. Adriana offered the young man her good hand but he just swung at her again. She shrugged and walked off towards the nurse's station.

Goddess, but the room was friggin' cold! The metal table was freezing through the thin material of her slacks. She shifted uncomfortably as she waited for Storm. The boy had come in not too long after her and his look probably would have killed her had he any psychic ability. Wasn't it just her lucky fucking day? Anaria growled a little when Logan came in with Ororo and she wished fervently that she could summon her knives to wipe that damnable smirk off his face. Unfortunately, she couldn't unless both hands were fully functional. Instead, she took a deep breath and smiled warmly at Storm, who returned it.

The older woman took her hand and examined it as Logan leaned his hip against the counter. Ororo glanced up at Anaria.

"I must apologize for my nephew's behavior. I am sorry he has caused you such a wound."

Anaria felt her eyes bulge. She barely reined in the urge to jerk her hand away and instead looked away from Storm.

"Don't worry about it. It wasn't your fault. To be honest, I'm really not sure exactly what was going on."

Storm's eyes flashed as she bandaged her friend's hand, but she remained silent. When she finished, Anaria flexed her hand experimentally. Everything still seemed to work properly. Logan's rough voice cut through the tension.

"You're damn lucky that there's no permanent damage to that hand. You could have lost it."

The boy exploded.

"What about me? That bitch crushed my hand and damaged my spikes!"

Ororo moved so fast that Anaria didn't see her hand come up. She slapped her nephew hard and he fell back into his chair, shocked. Logan looked at Anaria, surprise and amusement warring on his face.

"How dare you, Evan!! How dare you attack a professor of this school and how dare you complain about an injury that would not have happened had you acted your age! I am ashamed of you. You do not own this school and not everyone who comes here is a spy or a threat! Apologize to Professor Black this instant!"

Evan crossed his arms.

"No, Auntie. I don't owe her a damned thing and you can't make me do it either!"

Storm's arm rose again to strike him a second time. Anaria hopped off the table and went to her friend, placing a hand on her arm. Ororo whirled around, chest heaving in rage and the air crackled with electricity.

"Ororo, honey, that's enough."

The lightening left her eyes and the static level dropped. Storm nodded and swept out of the room without a backwards glance. Anaria looked at Logan, who shrugged.

"I'll stay with the kid. Chuck's going to want to talk to him and I may have instilled some manners in the little bastard."

Evan's glare returned and he looked at the floor, unable to meet the older man's stare. Anaria crossed to Logan, touched his cheek with the tip of her fingers, a silent thank you. His eyebrows rose and she just gave him a small smile. She turned back to Evan.

"I don't expect an apology from you, Evan. What I do expect is for you to be respectful to me and to your Aunt. Otherwise, I may break more than your hand next time."

Evan snorted and Anaria grabbed his chin with her good hand, forcing him to look into her eyes.

"Do not test me, sugar. I live by one philosophy and one only. Do you know what that is?"

The boy just continued to stare at her, fear and rebellion clashing on his face. Her grip tightened painfully on his jaw and Evan swore his teeth cracked. He felt the blood drain from his face as she purred,

"Life is a bitch and then you die. Your aunt loves you and is a very kind woman. I have no such inhibitions."

"You-you wouldn't-"

Her gaze said what she didn't have to. He swallowed, nodded, and she released him, patting the top of his head as she did so. She looked back at Logan and smirked.

"I don't think any etiquette lessons will be necessary today. Now, excuse me, gentlemen. I have quite a bit to do. Good afternoon, gentlemen."


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: **I apologize for the shortness of this chapter. School has started back for me and I have a full schedule. Please bear with me and I promise the next chapter will be up soon. Please read and review. Enjoy!**

Chapter 4

Logan watched her leave, admiration and frustration welling up inside him. She was the most irritating, brash, sexy woman he had ever met. He wanted to bed her and kick her ass at the same time. He chuckled under his breath. He was the unstoppable force and Anaria was the immovable object. He turned his attention back to Evan, who sulked in the corner, his bottom lip actually stuck out in a pout. The little asshole had nerve, but he had really bad timing.

"You wanna tell me what the hell that was about, kid?"

Evan stiffened at being called kid, but he let it go. Wolverine was not someone he was willing to push. His aunt may punish him, but Logan would kill him.

"None of your damned business, Wolverine."

"You threatened a co-worker of mine, so that makes it my business."

Evan wouldn't look at him, but it didn't really matter. The boy had a huge chip on his shoulder and a new face was just the outlet he was looking for. Spike was a ticking bomb and there was little shelter when he blew. He needed somewhere to channel that energy, but even something to focus on my not be enough if he lost his temper. Logan rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.

"Well, for now, you'll have two extra sessions in the danger room every day and you'll have extra cleaning chores, plus a public apology to Ms. Black. Oh, and I almost forgot that you might as well plan on being grounded here for the next three months, perhaps more, depending on how well you adjust your attitude."

Evan started to protest, but Logan's hard look made his jaw snap shut with a clack.

"Don't you make a sound, kid; because you're damned lucky I don't tell Professor Xavier to have you expelled. Speak of the devil."

The Professor wheeled in, his normally tranquil face troubled and angry. Evan's swallow was loud and Logan smiled grimly.

"He's all yours, Chuck."  
Xavier nodded and Logan walked out of the room. He was pissed when he had heard that a student had attacked Anaria, but not really concerned. She was very capable of taking care of herself, but that any student was stupid enough to take on an instructor here boggled his mind. Most of the students here were good kids. Most of them just needed a little direction in life. He played with the idea of checking on Anaria, and then discarded it. If she wanted to see him, she'd come look for him. That made him smirk. Fading may have been her power, but he doubted she would ever fade from his mind. Her presence was intoxicating and refreshing. He really like how blunt and stubborn she was, even if it was aggravating as hell most days.

Anaria padded down the hallway, dressed in cotton shorts and a blue tank. Storm's room should be only three doors down from hers. This must be it. She knocked twice and a soft voice beckoned her in. Storm was reclining on her bed with a book, relaxed. That was a good thing. Anaria had been worried, but she smiled brightly. Storm nodded and gave her a soft smile, but her eyes were very troubled. She patted the bed in invitation and Anaria sat, curling her legs beneath her. Storm's eyes dropped to Anaria's bandaged hand.

"Stop worrying about it, Ororo. I still think of you as a friend. Do you feel the same?"

Ororo looked at Anaria hesitantly, before nodding. Anaria grinned.

"Then what the hell are you so upset for? Come on, let's do something tomorrow. It's Saturday and I really need to do some shopping. What do you say?"

The worry vanished and was replaced by surprise.

"C-certainly, but why me?"

Anaria cocked her head to the side.

"Why not? You're a mature woman who has great taste and style. And you're my friend."

Ororo flushed a little in pleasure. Anaria looked at her out of the corner of her eye slyly.

"Besides, I know you have a sexy, devilish streak a mile wide. I bet you have all kinds of leather in that closet of yours…"

Storm's eyes widened, then she slapped Anaria's arm playfully.

"You are terrible! I have no such things in my wardrobe!"

"Oh?"

Anaria leapt from the bed and bolted to the closet before Ororo could protest. She threw open the door and dove right to the back. She could hear her friend sputtering in the background. She ignored her. Instead, she sifted through the clothing, reaffirming her opinion that Storm was incredibly classy and stylish. She sighed, wishing a little that she had a better head for such things. That was when she found it. It was nothing but black leather straps that resembled more a spider web than an outfit. Triumphantly, she pulled it out and let out an,

"Ah-ha! I knew it! Ororo, you are such a dominatrix!"

The older woman snatched it from her hands and Anaria swore the woman actually blushed. Laughing, she went right back into the closet and returned with two more outfits, one of them bright red, that were just as skimpy, if not more so. Anaria raised an eyebrow at Storm, who was desperately trying to maintain her composure. She failed and they both burst into a giggle fit, collapsing on the bed breathless. Anaria rolled over onto her side, still trying to catch her breath.

"You have to tell me where you got these."

Ororo wouldn't look her in the eye.

"They were gifts."

"Bullshit. Now, wherever you got these marvelous outfits is going to be our first stop tomorrow. So, be ready to go at nine o'clock sharp. We'll take my car."


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Anaria almost purred. Her car hummed to life smoothly, the soft vibrations from the powerful engine sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine. Goddess, but well tuned cars made her feel like having an orgasm more than any man ever did. Well, Logan might put that to the test. The man was an arrogant, brash sumbitch, but then…that was just her type. Sighing, she cut off the engine and stepped out of her Monte Carlo. Her shirt clung to her in the August heat, showing off every curve. Her cut-offs revealed her long legs, which, unbeknownst to her, Logan was appreciating from a few yards away. His morning run usually took him past the garage, but when he saw Anaria step out of her silver car, he decided to stop for a few moments. He leaned against the building, his eyes wandering along down the curve of her back to full hips and legs that went on for miles.

He raised an eyebrow at her knee-high combat boots. Damn, but that completed a very sexy outfit. He felt his manhood twitch as his blood rushed south at the direction his thoughts turned. His imagination came up with several different scenarios that involved Anaria and her boots, but little else. Logan's mouth curled upwards in a predatory smile and he licked his lips. The muscles of her back slid sensuously against the damp fabric of her shirt. She cocked out her hip, pulling the denim up a little higher on her leg and he couldn't remove his eyes from the shapely cheek that barely peeked out. Jesus, this was torture.

Anaria knew he was watching her. Hell, did anyone really believe that her outfit and he seeing her in it at this exact moment was coincidence? She knew he ran by here ever morning and she never could resist the temptation to tease. She smiled when she heard him shift ever so slightly behind her, but she didn't turn to acknowledge him. Instead, she kept her eyes fixed on the front door, waiting for Ororo to finish getting ready. She could see him in her mind's eye. His body damp with sweat, his tank sticking to his well-defined chest, his arms crossed loosely in front of him. Anaria switched hips, swinging the other one out slowly, almost like a stripper's dance. Feeling wicked; she slid her hands under the hem of her shirt and pulled it slightly upwards. More of her creamy skin was revealed as she reached up to pull her hair back and then shook it free.

She smirked with feminine confidence, knowing she was sexy and reveling in it. That is, until rough hands grabbed her around the waist and hauled into the shaded garage. Lights danced in her vision, but she didn't really get a chance to adjust to the gloom. She was practically dragged to the darkest corner of the garage. She heard a loud clang, followed by a deep voice swearing colorfully. Anaria suppressed her chuckle, figuring she was safer if she made no sudden moves or sounds. She could feel the bulge in his pants rubbing against her bottom and she wiggled the tiniest bit. That earned her a groan and a pleasure shiver of a different kind chased down her spine.

Logan turned her in his arms and pushed her hard against the wall. Anaria felt the breath whoosh out of her lungs, but not from the pressure. He pressed his body against hers, successfully pinning her in place. He slid her body up until she was eye level with him and his eyes bored into her. His voice was barely more than a growl.

"You wanna play dangerously, darlin'?"

She couldn't respond, her throat was so tight. He was intoxicating to her, his presence enough to arouse her. Well, she started it, might as well finish it. He saw the glint in her eye just a moment before she leaned forward. Her movements were deliberate and slow as she gently blew on his ear. It was his turn to shudder as she glided her parted lips centimeters from his skin, soft puffs of breath tickling his flesh. She moved her head till her lips were a scant breath from his.

"Is there any other way to play?"

He moved too fast for her to react. He didn't kiss her, he conquered her. His mouth crashed onto her, silk and leather, soft and rough. She gave what she got, her tongue battling his for control. She sucked on his bottom lip and he groaned. He pulled her tongue into his mouth deeply and she whimpered. The arm he had braced against the wall shook slightly. Her nails made goose bumps rise on his flesh as they glided feather light along his spine. His other hand, he slipped under her damp top, thumbs tracing circles on the firm, soft skin he found there. She made another mewling sound and he grinded his hips against her. Anaria wrapped her legs around Logan's waist and he groaned again at the feel of her hot, wet heat through their clothing. God, if it felt this good with their clothes on…he didn't dare finish that thought. His pants were already painfully tight and much more encouragement would send him over the edge.

Anaria had other ideas. All thought of new clothes and a girl's day out had flown from her mind the moment he had grabbed her. With an evil intent only women can do, she slid her hand down his chest, danced along his stomach, and then cupped the bulge in his sweats. She stroked him, firm and measured movements and he bucked against her hand. He left her mouth to kiss along her neck, nipping here and there to discover what made her squirm. He reached the soft spot just beneath her ear. He touched it lightly with the tip of his tongue, retreated, and then did it again. Her back arched and he smirked, smug, as he traced the shell of her ear. Her grip on his shaft tightened rhythmically in retaliation and he gasped, but he only heard the roaring of blood in his ears.

With her other hand, Anaria slid her palm against the smooth muscles of his chest. Goddess, but he felt good! She could spend all day running her hands over him. Feeling playful, she reached behind him and squeezed his ass, causing him to jump. She had always admired a man with a firm, shapely ass and, Lord help her, but he filled his jeans better than any man she'd ever met. Not that she'd let him know. No sense in inflating what already was an impressive ego. His hand cupping her breast snapped her back to the present and she moaned her approval. Through the lusty haze, Anaria heard someone calling her.

Logan stilled her hand and they tried to relearn how to breathe. Panting, he leaned his forehead against hers and saw how swollen and red her lips were from his kisses. One corner of his mouth quirked at that, but then he had to suppress a groan when she slowly, slid her little pink tongue out, a quick lick against the vivid red. Then she bit her bottom lip and he almost took her right there, public indecency be damned. With a fighter's grace, she unwrapped her smooth legs and he slid a hand along her thigh before letting her go. Anaria felt like she was standing on jell-o, but she hid it well. She smoothed her hair, giving Logan a wink when his eyes zeroed in on the bare skin that was exposed.

He grabbed her chin with one hand and leaned close to breath in he ear,

"We _will _finish this later."

"Is that a threat, Logan?"

He didn't make a reply, but left her leaning against the metal wall of the garage.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Ok, here's the latest installment. Thank you for your patience with me and I will post the next chapter within the next two weeks. School is a real bitch for me this semester, so please continue to bear with me. Anyway, read, review(which may cause a quicker update :P), and enjoy!!**

Ororo sneaked a glance at her friend. Anaria was driving, if you could call it that. They swerved sharply into the fast lane, shooting past the big truck like it was standing still. The older woman didn't dare look at the speedometer. There was such a thing as knowing more than one might want to know. They arrived at the mall, although Storm wasn't sure how they had. Anaria parked smoothly and turned to her friend, a wicked gleam in her eye.

"Are you ready for the greatest shopping excursion in female history?"

Ororo grinned devilishly.

There was a dust trail to the entrance.

They hit the first store like a tornado. They sped through the racks, clothes whirling around them. At least, that's how it appeared to the poor clerk. She watched the two friends move with lightning speed, choosing this, discarding that. Anaria saw a few blouses she liked and a pair of slacks. She purchased these and then they moved to the shoe store. Anaria bought a pair of black pumps, stilettos, a new pair of boots, and two pairs of high heels in two different colors. With her new wardrobe in tow, the pair went to the last clothing store. Anaria tried on a few dresses and skirts, but was having a difficult time finding anything that complimented her figure. She scowled when Ororo pulled a size 6 sun dress off the rack.

"Don't they make anything for real women? What do they think we are toothpicks?"

Ororo shook her head, white hair cascading around her shoulders.

"I do not know, my friend. I, myself am a size 10 and even that is difficult to find anymore."

"Well, I'm a 12 and I don't see a damned thing in that size. Wait, check this out!"

It was a soft, pale blue that fell straight. She tried it on. It was form fitting, but not unattractive. The top was cut low, with no sleeves, but it looked fabulous. Simple and elegant, exactly what she wanted. She bought it on the spot. As they left the store, Anaria was feeling pretty proud of herself. She turned to cock her head at Ororo.

"Y'know, I just got a wild hair across my ass. Let's go to that little lingerie shop across town. I want to pick up something sexy."

To her credit, Ororo didn't let her reaction show. Instead, she smiled warmly and nodded. It took a while to get through traffic, but they managed to find it in a half hour. It wasn't Victoria Secret by any means. The old gal probably wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this, the décor and the stock bordering on kinky, but at least the place was open to the more adventurous. Anaria stifled her laugh as Ororo started to browse, looking totally at ease in the environment. It was just so hard to imagine Storm, one of the most powerful mutants ever, to be considering a lime green and black thong that had "Foxy Mama" across the front.

Anaria walked to the back of the store and a slow grin began to spread across her pretty face at the rack in front of her. Oh, but the teasing war had just begun.

Anaria leaned against the door and sighed happily. That had been the most fun she'd had in ages, since she'd left the military, really. She put away her purchases, except one and went into the bathroom. With pleasure, she drew a bubble bath and eased into the hot water, biting back a moan. The heat seeped into her body, relaxing her and she breathed in the raspberry scented steam. As her thoughts lazily drifted, she turned the subject of Logan this way and that in her mind. Memories of his rough kisses made warmth pool between her legs. She squeezed her legs tight and pleasure flashed through her body.

She mewed as she imagined Logan's hard, muscled frame above hers, moving against her, in her. Anaria licked her lips as her hands skimmed over her breasts and glided down her stomach, feeling Logan's calloused hands and rough lips instead. A noise stopped her cold. She listened hard, but the sound didn't repeat itself. Suspicion spiked, but was then replaced with evil intent. With slow measured movements, she rose from the tub, her body slick and dripping from the bath. She bent slowly, her ass towards the door as she let the water out. Without turning, she grabbed a fluffy towel and began to dry herself, equally as careful as she had been to rise.

When she felt sufficiently dry, she wrapped herself in the towel and moved to the sink, where her bag lay. She made sure to keep her back to the door, so as to not give too much of a view, that would spoil the fun. She dropped the towel and slid a deep green, lacy thong up her smooth legs, up her thighs, gave her butt a little wiggle, and finally to rest snugly on her hips. Quickly, she picked up the matching bra and clasped it behind her. . Anaria glanced over her shoulder and called huskily,

"Enjoying the show?"

The low growl behind her answered the question. She turned and looked at Logan pointedly. His eyes were narrowed and burning. Anaria was tempted to back away, but she held her ground. He stepped closer and she could where he had unzipped his fly to relieve some of the strain against his jeans, which were riding very, very low on his hips. His abs and chest flexed with every breath and Anaria couldn't stop staring. Logan's eyes drifted from her face down to her chest and his nostrils flared slightly as he breathed deeply. They wandered lower, and then snapped back up sharply.

"You smell wet."

Her mouth went dry. She opened her mouth to give a smart reply, but no sound came out. Instead, she gathered herself for one last "hoorah". Logan's eyes went almost black as she ghosted her fingertips up her ribcage and then spread her hands fully and grasped her breasts, letting her lips part. She squeezed gently and licked her lips again, their cherry color glistening in the soft glow of the bathroom. Logan moved closer still, his face tight and dangerous.

Her hands wandered down her sides and thumbs slipped under the itsy-bitsy strings on her hips, and lifted away, giving a loud snap. He was suddenly right in front of her, his breath mingling with hers. His hands covered hers, stopping their movements. His erection brushed against the damp silk of her panties and she shuddered. He smirked at her as one hand came up to cup her chin.

"I told you this wasn't finished yet."

His lips brushed hers and her mind stopped.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

**A/N: Ok, this is an extremely lemony chapter, so BEWARE. I am sorry that updates are so far between, but I am writing as fast as my muse, the great flaming llama, allows me. Reviews would be much appreciated, as I would dearly love some feedback on this. Anyhoo, read and enjoy :D**

This was a different kiss than what she expected. It was soft, like a raindrop against her lips; sweet, moist, and oh, so careful. Just the barest of touches and it felt like tiny shock waves were rippling through her body to gather hotly in her core. She nipped him lightly, her hands skating along his arms. Her scent was driving Logan insane. Every touch, every kiss, only made it stronger and heavier. He let out a breathy groan when she nipped him lightly. He moved his hands up from her waist to run up her sides, thumbs stroking her flat stomach. She made a sound of pleasure at the warmth of his touch and he smiled against her mouth. She pulled away just enough to whisper,

"You're right. It isn't finished yet."

She left him bewildered and he turned to watch her hips sway enticingly as she walked to the door. With a small smirk she held the door open for him. His eyes narrowed with frustration and he stalked over to her. He ground out,

"What exactly are you playing at?"

She arched a brow.

"All is fair in love and war, sugar. And this is most definitely war."

He ran a hand through his hair, then crossed his arms and leaned against the door.

"Terms?"

Her smile widened as she traced an intricate pattern on his chest.

"As I said, all's fair. Any place, any time, and nothing short of absolute surrender,"

He nodded and she stepped back. She started to turn but he grabbed her arm and she was pulled hard against him. His mouth assaulted her neck and she gasped. He bit her skin gently and she moaned. His hands slid up into her auburn curls and pulled her head back to look into her eyes.

"All is fair, eh? Then I guess there can be no objections since there are no rules."

"What am I going to object to?"

He didn't answer. With his free hand he reached behind her and unclasped her bra. She bit her lip, anticipation making her quiver a little. With a practiced ease, he slid the straps down her arms, his eyes never leaving hers. He moved slightly away to let the scrap of lace fall to the floor, and then pulled her nakedness against him. He could feel her pert nipples through his thin cotton shirt and the sensations made him hiss in a breath. She was incredibly soft. Her breasts her pressed against his chest and it felt like heaven. He wanted her, he ached for her, rules be damned. His shaft was throbbing, his jeans so tight he wondered that they hadn't burst.

He wanted to look at her, to worship her body with is eyes, then his lips, but he kept her close. His mouth continued to wreak havoc on her flesh. He wanted to touch her breasts, feel their heavy softness in his palms. By the way she was rubbing herself against his hard frame, she wanted it to. Teasingly, one hand snaked between them, palm ghosting up and down her torso. His fingertips brushed the underside of her breast, only to retreat down towards her stomach. She nipped his shoulder in frustration and he grinned against her skin.

"Dammit, Logan!"

He tsked at her.

"Your mouth's too pretty to be saying such hard words, darlin'."

He could almost hear her purring at his endearment. He groaned against her hair as he buried his nose in it. His hands started to roam her body again, her scent maddening.

"I want you, now!"

"You're the one who made the damned rules."

She wove her fingers in his dark hair, her fingers playing in the strands. She tugged slightly and he brought his head up to look at her. She dove at his mouth, her tongue taking control from him. Her impatience was painfully arousing and he stifled another groan, the feel of her intoxicating. She pulled back.

"Shut up, Logan."

"Yes, ma'am."

His hands wandered down to her ass and he gripped the plump cheeks firmly. She moaned into his mouth and he felt her wiggle, causing another spasm of pleasure to rocket down to his groin. Somehow, she managed to hook her legs around his waist, using her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as she moved her slick heat against the denim. They were panting, the tension between them palpable and he staggered as he walked towards her bed. With a grunt he tossed her onto the bed and quickly followed her, barely allowing her to catch her breath.

He placed desperate, hot kisses down her collarbone, a blazing, wet trail towards her breasts. Oh, she wanted this, he could taste it on her skin, feel it in her movements, but, just before he reached the slopes of those heavenly bodies, he pulled back. He stared down at them. They weren't large and droopy like some women. No, hers were smaller and perked; for him, they were perfect. His manhood throbbed insistently at him as he gazed. Wincing, he brought his eyes back up to her face, flushed and eyes clouded by lust.

"God, Anaria, I want you-"

Her brow arched again and he almost choked when it struck him as cute. Wolverine did not find his women cute.

"I hear a 'but' coming."

He gave her a lopsided smile.

"I don't think you want this yet."

Her long legs encircled him and pulled down, his shaft ground against her wetness and he hissed.

"What would you term that, Professor?"

Kinky thoughts chased through his mind at that, but he clamped down firmly. Now was not the time to be imagining naughty role-playing. She chuckled softly.

"Oh, I want you, alright."

She leaned up to his ear and blew a soft puff of air against the sensitive shell, whispering,

"I want to feel you inside me, hard and thick, Logan. I want to feel your body moving on me, under me, behind me…"

She pulled at his hips again and he let out a predatory growl. She licked her lips and continued in that husky, seductive tone,

"But do you know what I really want, Logan?"

He shook his head, trying very hard not to rip the thong of her body and take her right there.Her hand slipped down and unzipped him fully. She stroked him through the denim and his eyes bled to absolute black.

"I want you to lose…every…ounce…of…control…"


	9. Chapter 8

"C'mon people, let's move!"

Anaria sprinted towards the blackened rubble that used to be a gas station. She leapt over the low cement wall and skidded to a stop inside the burning hull, Jean, Scott, Rogue, Kitty, and Kurt right behind her. She tried to see through the dense smoke.

"Where the hell is Spike?"

"He stopped about half a mile back," Jean managed to pant.

"Shit! Alright, take a breather. We need to regroup. Shadowcat, stay near the doorway, alert me if even the smoke changes its damned direction."

The petite teen nodded and melted into the concrete. Anaria erected a silence shield around the store, but it worked so that they could hear, albeit the noise would be muted. Scott took note and scowled.

"How will Spike be able to find us now?"  
Anaria's smile was feral.

"The little prick is probably fighting with Magneto as we speak. I highly doubt he feels it necessary to stick to any plan other than his own."

None of them argued that point and she turned her attention to other matters. Logan hadn't protested when she ended their little game last night. If the glint in his eyes was anything to measure by, then she suspected he was plotting something extremely naughty to do to her later. Not that she minded too much. It was a war, after all. Kitty popped out of the floor next to Kurt, startling him so badly that he teleported behind Anaria and peeked out around her shoulder. Kitty gave him a look, and then moved her gaze to the older woman.

"Fade, there's something going on just beyond the smoke. I can't see it, but I can hear it and its loud, let me tell you!"

Fade nodded and pulled Kurt from behind her.

"Alright, Nightcrawler, when we move, takes point and sends all Intel to Jean since she's the only one who can relay. Cyclops, keep rear guard, you've got good instincts."

"Thanks, but shouldn't I be up front?"

Anaria gave him a cool glance.

"If you're going to lead these people one day, then you need experience in everything so that you can give orders efficiently. A leader that doesn't understand what he's telling his squad to do isn't worth a lick. Leadership training 101, welcome to class, sugar."

The young man turned bright red, but didn't say anything. Jean opened her mouth, but shut it again, thinking better of it.

"Alright, let's move out."

Anaria saw with no small amount of pride the precision of the teens' movements. They were perfectly in sync, coordinated and she made a mental note to reward them in some way for their hard work. They would make Xavier very proud one day. An extremely loud explosion to their left signaled the limit of her silence bubble. Anaria made a gesture to stop.

"Nightcrawler, report!"

The German mutant appeared in his trademark puff of blue smoke. His face was, from what Anaria could infer through the azure fur, was pale.

"Spike's up there. Magneto's got him on the run towards our position; they'll be here in a minute!"

Anaria spread her team across the terrain, they knew their positions. She stood in the middle of the pavement, arms crossed lightly. The boy had good eyes. Magneto floated into view almost as soon as they dispersed, Spike suspended and trapped in a cocoon of metal bars and wire. She resisted the urge to tsk him and instead smiled sweetly at the hologram of Magneto.

'Thank you eva' so for bringin' back ma student; he's been awfully naughty to run off that way, don't ya'll think?"

Spike was quivering now, his eyes, twin black coals, rage blazing in the depths. Her syrupy voice grated on the last nerve he had left. Grinding his teeth audibly, he managed to speak tightly,

"I can handle this bastard. I have it under control, so fuck off, all of you!"

One arched brow was enough to silence him and her condescending smile enough to infuriate him.

"Why, of course you do, sugar. We would neva' dream of takin' away your little bit of glory, now would we, ma ducklings?"

_You're treading dangerously with him, Professor. It may be prudent to resist provoking him till we're through with the exercise._

Anaria didn't waste time glancing at the pretty psychic.

_He needs to learn control. If my teasing is enough to send him into a rage, then he isn't ready for real combat. The sooner he realizes that, the better for all of us. _

The silence was enough of an answer. She snapped her fingers sharply twice and the scene dissolved back into the sereneness of the Danger Room. The teenager was dropped unceremoniously on his ass and she went to offer him a hand up. He was still quivering with anger, but he bit his tongue. There were few things that Evan knew for certain, but what he did know was that fighting Professor Black was suicide. As if she knew what he was thinking, she gave him a lop-sided grin.  
"Always pick your battles, Evan. It's the most important lesson of all and one that you must learn on your own. You've shown a great deal of maturity by mastering that lesson today."

In spite of himself, his angry flush was replaced by one of embarrassment. He wasn't expecting a compliment, but he appreciated it all the same. Feeling more confident, he took her hand and let her pull him up. Anaria turned to her other students.

"Well done. If ya'll continue to work as hard as today, then I feel confident that ya'll make a fine team indeed. Dismissed!"

She grinned inwardly as the teens whooped happily. As well as they handled combat situations, they were still kids. Even as she trained them to become an elite fighting force, on par with top militant groups, she could never forget that.

_Not to mention, they've yet to see bloodshed._

She sobered instantly at that thought as she washed away the sweat and grime in the locker room. Scott and Jean would be able to handle it; they were natural leaders. The others were questionable. She sighed. They would have to learn, and soon, before Magneto escalated his attacks before they were ready. Anaria made a note speak with Xavier, but blanched at the unpleasantness of the subject. Letting her mind wander as the steam billowed, she found herself anticipating Logan's move.

It would be very soon, probably before the end of the night. Running a finger along her slit as they water cascaded down her skin; she felt heat simmering in her core. Anaria chuckled and gave herself over to the pleasure of the moment.


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: I apologize for the delays in my updates, but school and family have run me ragged. Anyhoo, here is the next installment! Please read and review, I'd love to have some feedback!! Enjoy :D**

Anaria didn't bother to look away from her notes as she heard soft footsteps stop at her door.

"Come on in, Rogue," she called out.

The young goth walked in, frowning.

"How did ya know it was me, Professa?"

Anaria smiled at her warmly.

"You're the only student I know that walks that lightly, honey."

Rogue flushed and smiled sheepishly. Giving her a moment, Anaria moved her attention back to her work, writing swiftly in a small, curly hand. Rogue watched her, uncomfortable. She gathered herself and approached the bed and sat down, biting her lip.

"Professa?"

"Yes, sugar?"

Rogue laughed quietly.

"Its been so long since anyone's called me that; not since I left home. Its kinda nice to hear it again."

Anaria's smile still warm, she reached out and touched the teen's gloved hand.

"I miss home too. Now, what is it you wanted to speak with me about?"

Rogue sighed and rubbed her arms.

"Professa, the training today; I've been thinking about it."

Anaria arched a brow.

"And?"

"And, well, we didn't exactly win the battle. Why did ya end it when we clearly were the losers?"

The older woman sighed and pinched her nose. Of all the things these kids needed to know, this was the most difficult one to grasp.

"Let me ask you something, Rogue. If that had been a real fight, and we all died, would that have been a victory?"

Rogue looked at her wide-eyed.

"Of course not! How could it be, when everyone is dead?"

"If all of us had died as well as Magneto's forces, would that have been a victory?"

"No!"

"Why not? We defeated them; they're all dead and can't harm anyone else. Doesn't that make it a victory for us?"

Rogue shook her head vigorously.

"Absolutely not! It can't be a victory if we are all dead and unable to protect people. Even if we did beat Magneto, there will be other mutants just like him, to take his place."

Anaria nodded, impressed. Rogue was very intelligent and world-wise, which made Anaria a little sad. The girl was much too young to understand so much.

"So, what then counts as a victory?"

Rogue stared at her a moment, then realization dawned.

"We have to survive."

Anaria smiled.

"Exactly, and that is what is the most important. Yes, we can't let Magneto carry out his plans, but we must also live to keep it that way."

Rogue nodded and met her teacher's gaze.

"I think I understand a little better, Professa. Thanks."

Anaria patted her arm fondly.

"I'm glad I could ease your mind, Rogue. Now, is there anything else you would like to talk about?"

Rogue shook her head.

"No ma'am. I really need to be getting to bed soon. Wolverine is training us tomorrow."

Anaria hid her amusement at the girl's tone and nodded in a grave manner.

"I agree. Good night, Rogue."

"Good night, Professa."

With that, the girl left just as quietly as she entered.

The next morning, bright and early, Anaria woke up with her usual curses towards the sun and its sunshiny cheerfulness. There were times she believed she could take a shotgun tot the damned thing, if only to convince it to stay down for a few more hours. Groggy, she dragged herself through her morning routine, albeit with a tinge of disappointment. Logan had not made his move last night, which made her both curious and uneasy. She had never liked surprises very much and with a man like him on the prowl, ready to pounce on her at any given moment…well, she'd let that thought go.

She walked into class just as the bell rang; her trademark smile firmly in place. Oh, but they were going to hate her today.

"Good morning, all."

There was a round of half-hearted murmurs. After all, 8:30 in the morning was very early to be functional AND eager to learn. Her smile widened evilly and Rogue elbowed Kitty.

_Smart girl, she reads people fast._

Out loud, she said,

"I trust you all read Chaucer's 'Canterbury Tales' over the weekend?"

A few nods here and there, but generally, they were apprehensive. She was being much too nice this morning and they knew Ms. Black took no prisoners. She turned to the board and began to write notes, heightening their tension. She lectured as she wrote, asking questions and engaging them in discussion. Normally, there only a select number of her students that responded, but today they were wary. Even Evan was talking. Anaria was very pleased with their participation, but the predatory glimmer never left her eyes.

Five minutes before the bell, Anaria went over the reading assignment for the next day. It was really short and she could see the ripple of hackles being raised. She leaned casually back against her desk and crossed her legs. She was wearing a brand a new skirt and her pretty black pumps, her legs smooth and shapely. Many male eyes followed the slit in her skirt down to her crossed ankles but she paid them little attention. She didn't need their approval to know she looked sexy in a slightly kinky way. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, lifting her cleavage a little, making sure that she had their full attention.

"Also, there will be an exam on our study of medieval literature on Friday. I expect good grades from all of you on this test. There will be multiple choices, but mostly essay questions. It will cover King Arthur all the way through the 'Everyman' morality play, so study the material thoroughly."

Anaria watched them file out the door, grumbling and sneaking glares at her. She chuckled and started to erase the board. She didn't hear him slip in and lock the door. Lost in her amusement, her military-honed senses failed her. Anaria jumped as one long, warm finger slid up the back of her thigh, under her skirt, to brush the underside of the right cheek. She instantly silenced the classroom as she whirled around to glare at him. He grinned cheekily and her breath caught. Why the fucks aren't those smiles illegal? She would have to write her congressman about that. Remembering her manners, she smiled back sweetly.

"Good morning, Logan."

He leaned a hip against the desk, low riding jeans and black t-shirt enhancing his rebel aura. She fought back the urge to roll her eyes. Oh, hell yes, he was sexy, but that look was old school. She had hoped for…well, something a little more original.

"Good morning. How was class?"

She smirked.

"Delicious. They'll be quite busy for the next few days scrambling to prepare for my test. I do so enjoy making them squirm; it brings pleasure to my wicked heart."

He laughed a low rumble deep in his chest.

"You're an evil woman, Professor Black."

She moved towards him then, positioning herself so her legs straddled his slightly. Her heels gave her the height in order to make eye contact and she leaned forward, until her hands were on either side of his hips. Her chest brushed his and she licked her lips slowly. Logan watched her mouth hungrily as she inched closer. A breath away and she stopped, her lips full and moist.

"You have no idea how evil I am, Wolverine. No idea at all."


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello all, thank you for your patience. Here is the latest update and I hope you enjoy it!! Please keep giving me feedback, as its immensely useful. Anyhoo, read, review, and enjoy :D**

Her scent was all around him, warm and tangy. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He may not know how evil she was, but he did know how good she tasted, smelled, felt…that's when he noticed her absence. She had moved away, but her scent remained. He opened his eyes, expecting to see honey brown curls and clear grey eyes, but was greeted instead by an empty classroom. He listened intently, but there was nothing but the ticking of the clock. So, she hadn't silenced the room this time, only the perimeter. There, her scent was back, close, like a caress. He felt a puff of warmth near his ear, and then it was gone again. She was everywhere and nowhere. Logan grinned crookedly and it looked more like he was baring fangs.

She was in front of him, and he watched, turned on, as his belt came flying off with a hiss. Anaria flickered back into sight, his belt dangling from one finger, her eyes glittering, but her face was severe.

"Welcome to detention, Mr. Logan. I do hope you will learn your lesson this time. I despise having to repeat myself."

God, he was already hard. All she needed was a pair of glasses and she would have completed that teenage boy fantasy. She stroked the leather with one hand and swayed her hips slightly. Through the lusty fog that was clouding his brain, he heard a tinny hum, distant and getting closer. Anaria sensed the change in him from aroused to alert and her body tensed. She cocked her head to the side and watched him closely.

"What do you hear?"

Logan growled, pissed and anxious. His eyes locked on hers and his voice was rough.

"Metal."

She nodded, an unspoken communication. He didn't wait for her. He was out the door and running to the mansion's front doors as Anaria made contact with Professor X. She darted out the classroom after Logan.

_I felt him coming, Anaria. I've let the students know; they are preparing as we speak._

_Are they ready for this, Professor?_

_I hope so, my dear. A great deal depends on it. Now, I will help as I can at Cerebro. You are familiar with the defense system?_

She mentally laughed, but it was more like a harsh bark, even in her own mind.

_Now what kind of X-Man would I be if I didn't practice what I preached?_

Storm was hovering above Logan as he crouched in front of the doors, claws out. Anaria could almost see the adrenaline pumping through his system. If she had the time, she would have stopped to admire the sheer aura he gave off, but not today. The teens were already suited up and, riding her own adrenaline high, cracked a smile at their freshness, their innocence of real warfare; all except Rogue. She wasn't excited like Kitty or Kurt, nor was her face set in a determined stare, like Jean or Scott. No, calm rolled off of her in waves, her features almost serene. There was no fear; there was nothing. Anaria nodded to her approvingly and then turned her attention to the other adults.

"How do ya'll wanna do this?"

Storm glanced down at her.

"The children know what to do. They have practiced and are prepared for such an event-"

Anaria cut her off and raised both eyebrows.

"You misunderstand me, honey, I asked ya'll how ya'll wanna do this. Which piece of this guy do you want?"

Storm looked taken aback but Logan chuckled lowly.

"What piece do you think I want?"

Anaria grinned sadistically as she kicked off her heels and shed her jacket, dangling it by a finger before letting it drop.

"Wanna bet on who gets to it first?"

Storm looked from one to the other and her forehead wrinkled slightly in confusion.

"How can you make a bet on such a thing?"

Logan waved his hand at her and winked.

"You wouldn't understand, Storm, it's a commando thing."

Anaria slid her knives from their slender sheaths and tested their sharpness. The hum was growing louder as they moved into position. Anaria eyed Wolverine.

"Fifty dollars and a pair of undies says I'll get the right nut before you land a scratch on the bastard."

"Done."

Storm simply shook her head as the source of the hum burst through the front gates, lasers and metals shrapnel bouncing harmlessly off the floating monstrosity that called himself Magneto. Anaria's eyes widened as she noticed who was behind him. She sighed and muttered,

"Well, guess I gotta pay up."

"Giving up already?"

"Naw, its just that my kid sister picked now to have a family reunion."

The others looked at her in surprise before a loud woman's voice boomed across the lawn.

"Lucy, I'm home!"

Anaria groaned as the short stature of her sister became clear through the haze of smoke. She was small, even by today's standards, armored in gold and blue chainmail. A gold helmet that was fashioned like that of the norse gods of old crowned her head, which was braided in one thick blond rope down her back. She carried a massive two headed hammer on her shoulder before swinging it down and resting both hands on top of it.

"Been a while, huh, Fade Black?"

Anaria never took her eyes off of the Amazonian woman as she spoke quietly.

"Meet my kid sister, The Barbarian."


	12. Chapter 11

Wolverine's eyes moved from Fade to the Amazonian woman at the gate. Obviously, they had history, but he doubted deeply that much of it was a good one. This was a war that had been going on for years and was probably not going to end anytime soon.

"I thought you died in Siberia, Wyn."

Barbarian threw back her head and roared a laugh that was more like a battle cry. Her voice was full of venom and checked rage.

"You honestly believed I was dead? Oh, how you must have grieved!"

She sobered.

"No, I didn't die in that frozen hell you left me in, big sister. I crawled through the snow and ice until I found exactly what I was looking for."

The Barbarian heaved her hammer and began to spin it above her head, electricity crackling in the air around her. Fade's eyes were almost slits as she motioned to Storm.

"Get everyone out of here, Storm. If they gotta fight, then we'll give 'em one, but make damned sure there ain't nobody around me when she lets lose!"

She didn't have to tell the weather witch twice. Wolverine growled and crouched low. She gave him a look.

"Leave, Logan. This is something between me and her."

He nodded. Logan may have the sensitivity of a Sherman tank, but he understood personal battles all to well. He turned and left without a word.

Fade Black was what she had been called and the name rang true. She pulled out her knives and flickered out of sight. The Barbarian chuckled as the sparks became arcs of lightning that sizzled and popped around her.

"That's on old trick, Anaria. One you've used far too many times for it to be of any use around me."

With a mighty heave, she threw her hammer, still spinning, to her left and it whirled through the air, the lightening igniting everything it touched. Cursing loudly, Anaria couldn't dodge, the damned thing was heading straight for her. She leapt high and twisted, narrowly missing getting her torso crushed by the blow. Instead, it knocked her back a good fifty yards, the lightning burning her skin like thousands of tiny bee stings and she wasn't able to keep her invisibility up. Muttering colorfully under her breath, she winced as she stood up. Fade spit the blood out of her mouth and gave her sister a bloody grin as her hammer returned to her hand.

"Not bad, little sister, but now it's my turn."

She flickered again, this time throwing up her shield. The sound of combat from the mansion abruptly stopped. Fade knew she was on a very slim timetable with this fight. She only had so much room for error and that window was closing fast. Knives spinning, she charged straight ahead, gambling that her sister wasn't expecting that. The Barbarian's body was tensed, legs wide apart and balanced; her grip on her hammer so tight her knuckles were white. Ice blue eyes were scanning, watching for any movement of grass or leaf that may have been out of place.

Just as she came within reach of that damned warhammer, she shifted gears, and dropped like she was sliding into third base all those years ago when she played as a kid. She had just enough momentum to pass through the Barbarian's legs, which she made a point of slicing each hamstring before she leapt to her feet behind her. Her sister went down with a roar. Moving as fast as she ever had, Fade threw her knives straight at her opponent, one for the kidney and one for the neck, then caught the tree branch above her, pulling herself up. To her absolute shock, as she looked back to see her handiwork, her sister was standing. She was bleeding profusely from her wounds, but she was smiling; the same exact, feral smile that Fade had and that scared the shit out of her. Anaria's eyes meet her sister's as she faded back into view. Then she somersaulted out the tree and began to run, panic threatening to overcome all of her training. The Barbarian had gone into blood lust.

Anaria sprinted towards the mansion and the rest of the X-men. The Barbarian wasn't far behind her. She saw the teens locked in a stand still fight with the Brotherhood and she cursed. Logan and Storm were desperately trying to keep Magneto away from the kids, but they were rapidly losing ground. Fear for them started to choke her, but she pushed it back. Goddamnit, she was a commando and she better damn well remember it. As she got within hearing range, she yelled,

"Retreat! Get back to the mansion now!"

Scott looked away from Lance long enough to give her a confused look and, once again, was going to protest.

"I gave you an order, Cyclops, now move!!"

He nodded and turned back to Lance, who was smirking and waved his hand mockingly.

"We'll give you freaks time to get a head start, but ya better start running now."

Spike overheard and reacted, but Anaria had reached them and grabbed his arm.

"Remember your training, Spike."

He nodded and withdrew his spikes. Fade looked at Rogue, who nodded with grim understanding. Leaving them to retreat, Fade called to Storm,

"Fog, Storm, now!!"

Storm obeyed the order, trusting that the woman knew what she was doing. Misty, damp fog filled the air. Logan heard Fade's command and moved back towards the mansion. Magneto was a hell of a lot tougher sumbitch outside of the danger room. He couldn't even get close to the bastard. He met Fade and Storm at the front doors. Fade had a wild look in her eyes that made his heart jump. She was scared shitless and he didn't like it.

"What is it?"

Fade glanced at him before turning back to listen.

"The Barbarian is not Barbarian anymore."

They both looked her confused and she whispered,

"She's Berserker now and that's a whole new ball game."

"What are you talking about?"

Anaria didn't answer him directly.

"She's coming. Get inside and tell the professor to lock everything down. Oh, and please apologize ahead of time for me for the lawn. I'll pay for it when I get out of the Med Ward."

Logan was bewildered and started to say so, but she cut him off.

"Go."

Storm touched his arm.

"Trust her."

Anaria gave him that feral grin and he felt a little better. He turned and followed Storm inside.

Once the mansion was sealed tightly, Fade began to move away from the mansion, back towards the gate. She didn't bother to mask her presence…she wanted to be found. She just hoped her plan worked like it had last time. She stopped and waited, listening. There was dead silence. She smiled; perfect. She started to move again, but then the ground began to shake. Oh, Goddess, but this was going to hurt. Her sister charged out of the mist, hammer swinging. Fade ducked and rolled out the way, but Berserker followed closely, not letting her up, her eyes wild and red. Shit.

Fade rolled onto her back, both legs shooting out and kicked her sister's legs out from under her. Berserker fell, howling. Great, now she was pissed. Anaria leapt up and started to run. She could hear her sister roaring behind her. She skidded to a stop and turned. Berserker was up, chest heaving and a mad grin on her face. Lightening was arcing around her and the hammer glowed. With a powerful swing, she brought her hammer up and then bashed it into the ground. Everything exploded around them both and then Fade's world indeed went black.


	13. Chapter 12

Anaria floated in and out of consciousness for the next few days. She never opened her eyes, but she could hear people talking around her, voices full of worry and anger. She managed to smile at that one; only Logan's voice could hold that much rage and concern at one time. From time to time, she could feel the professor in her mind, probing, trying to get her to wake up, but she didn't want to. If she woke up, everything was going to hurt and she didn't care that much for pain. Eventually though, she opened her eyes- and was greeted by the harshest, brightest group of lights she had ever seen. Cursing like a sailor, she shielded her blinded orbs and sat up.

"Christ! Logan, why the hell did you put all those fucking lights right in my line of vision?"

A deep chuckle from somewhere to her left answered her and she felt her lips tighten in annoyance.

"Well, well, good morning to you too, princess. Gee, payback is such a bitch, isn't it?"

Anaria groaned as her irritation was replaced by an intense wave of nausea, followed immediately by painful spasms in her gut; just abso-fucking-lutely fabulous. It took her a minute to notice that Logan had moved to her side and was rubbing her back, trying to ease the discomfort. She leaned her forehead against his chest gratefully and looped one weak arm around his waist. His other hand came up to stroke through her messy curls and it was soothing. She sighed a little, letting herself relax. This was really nice; too bad Storm had to pick that moment to walk in.

With a small cry, she rushed to Anaria's side and pulled her away from Logan's warmth into her tight embrace. All the air in her lungs was crushed out of her in one big whoosh as the older woman began to talk really fast in a language Anaria didn't recognize. She signaled frantically to Logan, who she knew was grinning in evil amusement.

"Storm, don't you think you'd better let her go long enough to breath?"

Ororo immediately released her friend.

"I am so sorry, Anaria. I didn't cause you any pain, did I?"

She did, but Anaraia wasn't about to make the poor woman any more distraught than she already was. Besides, she might hug her again.

"No, no, I'm fine. What about the kids? Did they all get to the mansion ok?"

"Yes, thankfully. You were the only one hurt. Why on earth did you stay out there? You obviously knew that you were going to end up here."

Anaria sighed.

"I'm the only one here who knows her and I'm her only target. I had hoped to bring her down before she enraged, but that plan backfired like hell. Once she hit her berserker level, there was no way anyone but me would know how to survive it. Besides…"

Wolverine looked at her sharply. Anaria's eyes were haunted as she lifted them to meet his and then shrugged.

"She's my sister, Logan. What more can I say?"

He snorted derisively, then growled,

"You can start by promising not to do something so stupid again. What the hell were you thinking?"

Now she was getting pissed. She got off the bed and strode up to him, till they were nose to nose. Her southern accent was thick as she hissed,

"I did what I had to do and if you don't like that, tough shit, cowboy. You ain't ma' boss, you sure as hell ain't ma' daddy, so Ah fail ta see where the fuck you get off tellin' me Ah'm actin' stupid ."

Logan's eyes were slits and he was breathing heavy, but she was too damned mad to care. His face turned menacing, but Anaria wouldn't back down. Storm stood at the other side of the room, looking from one to the other, anxiety making her body tense. Suddenly, Logan relaxed and gave a small chuckle.

"Alright, you mink, you may have won this round," he said and grabbed her chin, rubbing his thumb along her jaw line and making her shiver, "but I have won the war."

He dropped his palm away and walked out of the room, leaving both women looking bewildered behind him. Anaria furrowed her brow in confusion, then slapped her hand to her forehead. Storm turned back to her when she groaned.

"What is wrong? Are you alright?"

"That sneaky, conniving, bastardized goat tit sucker, I'll kill him if he so much as puts a toe in my room!"

The older mutant was taken aback at first, and then began to giggle. Anaria looked at her friend, murder in her gaze.

"What is so damned funny, Ororo?"

But she couldn't answer. Breathless, she collapsed across the bed, looking at her friend upside down in a surprisingly childlike manner. Her beautiful face was the epitome of innocence as she asked,

"What color do you think he will pick?"


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N: Allo all!! I appreciate your patience with me as I continue to write this story and I apologize for the delays in updates. As ya'll know, life tends to get in the way of the creative processes :P Anyhoo, you know they deal by now, so please read and enjoy :D**

**P.S.- Those of you that have reviewed, thank you SOOOOO much, it helps alot and I hope ya'll continue to give me all the valuable feedback!!**

~**Silvergryphon**

Anaria managed to limp her way to the bathroom, pain shooting through her body at every step. Many of her students had been by to check on her and she loved them dearly for it, even though their timing was atrocious. Every time she had gotten up, someone had knocked and she had to hobble like mad to get back to the safety of the covers. If she didn't hurt so much, she would have been amused. As it was, she was just cranky. Wincing and moving cautiously, she managed and with a sigh of relief she washed her hands. Looking into the mirror, she tried to smooth her frizzy curls, but it didn't help. She resembled a zombie, with wild hair and sunken eyes. Her skin was pale from the blood loss and she was covered in bruises and cuts. Hell, even her eyes were glazed, if only from the pain meds.

She stuck her tongue out at her reflection and went back to bed. She already felt like road kill, why add insult to injury? Grunting from the effort and muttering about restrictive bandages, she crawled back under the covers gratefully. Anaria lay back and tried to sleep, but it eluded her. Instead, she lay there, counting the black spots in the ceiling. After a while, there was another knock, followed by the quiet hum of the Professor's chair. Anaria returned his warm smile and leaned up to take his hand.

"Anaria, how are you feeling today?"

"Bored as hell, sir, but healthy."

He laughed, amazed at how deeply the South engrained its manners on its youth. He probed gently into her mind, searching for anything serious, and was relieved that nothing was terribly amiss.

"A few aches and pains, but they will pass, as you know. Don't worry about the lawn, though, it'll grow back. I'm much more interested in your recovery."

Anaria nodded and grinned.

"Well, to be honest, so am I, but you understand that if I didn't offer, my mama would tan my hide."

Xavier hid his smile and shook his head in mock gravity.

"Ah, yes, mothers can be terribly demanding at times."

Then he sobered.

"We didn't find your sister, I'm afraid."

Anaria shrugged.

"I didn't really expect you too, sir. She's a survivor and tenacious as a damned bulldog. She'll be back. We were extremely lucky that I was the only casualty." Her eyes grew distant with dark memories. "There are usually more."

"I know, but I would rather you have gone inside with the others. You worried us all."

"Professor, you also know that if I had, she'd have torn this place apart to get at me. It's a lesson I learned all too well and I will not let her stain her hands with any more blood than she already has. Despite everything, she's my baby sister and I am supposed to watch out for her. Yes, she needs to be put away, but I just can't bring myself to kill her."

Xavier watched her face.

"You've already tried once."

She gave him a hard stare.

"And I failed. Not just her, but my unit. I know that you've seen my memories. With my body so weak, they couldn't have helped but bleed through."

"It's interesting that you put it that way, Anaria. There is a lot of blood in your past, and probably much more will be spilt before your death."

Grey eyes filled with tears, and then she blinked them away. She curled her torso around her knees, unconsciously shielding her body.

"We're all born in blood, but for me, it was different. When I was in the military, they said death was my lover and blood was my child. Poetic for a group of commandos, but it was true, nonetheless. War is all I've known." She laughed softly. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear I was a vampire or something."

The Professor considered her words a moment.

"You have more in common with Logan than you care to admit. You both carry many scars. What I hope is that you can heal each other."

Anaria smiled and blushed a little, making him chuckle.

"Come now, my dear, do you really think I am oblivious to what goes on in my school? Even without my psychic powers, I would recognize what he's thinking when he looks at you, any man would. Just be careful, both of you."

She knew what he meant and she gave him a small smile.

"I would tell you not to worry, but I believe it's in your nature, Professor."

"Just as it's in yours; you care a great deal about the students and for that, I'm grateful. You protected them the only way you knew how. With that said, I will leave you to rest."

She nodded and he squeezed her hand gently before taking his leave. Anaria knew he was right, but she wasn't ready to put her relationship with Logan under that close a microscope. It was too new, too raw yet to be anything other than what it was. What exactly, she had no idea, but she knew that she liked it. For now, it was enough. She frowned, then reached for her cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Ororo, I have a favor to ask."

There was a pause at the other end and Anaria could hear the grin in her friend's voice.

"How sneaky is it?"

Anaria grinned evilly as they began to plot her revenge. Life can be such a bitch.


	15. Chapter 14

_**A/N: LEMON WARNING!! Ok, with that out of the way, here's the next chapter! I apologize for making ya'll wait so long for it. Hope you enjoy and please keep giving me reviews and feedback! **_

Anaria didn't have to look to know that her underwear drawer was empty. In fact, she didn't even spare her room a glance, but made a bee line for the closet. Sliding the door open, she grinned. Thank the Goddess for friends who understood the meaning of vindictiveness. Ororo had been more than willing to cooperate with her diabolical scheme and, for once, the little gremlin voice inside of her head was in complete agreement with the rest of her. Logan had best give his heart to God, because she had every intention of settling the score and then some.

Thankful for the little things, she quickly changed clothes, pulling on an oil-stained wife beater and a pair of ancient jeans, you know the kind; that's so worn out the hem is tattered and rips everywhere. She swiftly laced up her boots and was out the door. The mansion was quiet, but it wasn't creepy. The better behaved of her students were sleeping by now, but other…well, they were another story. As she walked past the front doors she could hear whispers and giggles.

Silent, she strode to the giant oak frames and listened. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but she didn't have to; teenage conversations never changed. Grinning evilly, she threw open both doors and glared at the group of young mutants gathered on the front steps. They looked back at her, terror reflected in their wide eyes, their illegal cigarettes and beers forgotten. Anaria's eyes narrowed and she took a step forward, the echo of her boots on the concrete an ominous sound. She quirked an eyebrow.

"Any of ya'll want to take a crack at explaining this one to me?"

They all shook their heads vigorously. They knew there was no hope. Anaria basked in the sweet taste of their fear, then cocked her head at them.

"Everyone does stupid shit once or twice at your age. Go to bed, but don't let me catch you out here again", her eyes gleamed dangerously, "or your ass is grass and I'm the lawn mower."

She didn't think they could move that fast. If their minds ran half as fast in class as when they got in trouble, they would all have A's. As it was, she chuckled to herself, amused that that particular threat only worked on guilty kids.

Strolling along the driveway, she made her way to the lit garage, the faint sounds of tinkering reaching her ears. She found Logan kneeling next to a royal blue motorcycle, shirtless and covered in grease and sweat. She fought the urge to lick her lips. He stopped and turned his torso a little to look back at her over his shoulder.

"Wanna give me a hand here?"

Her eyes twinkled with mischief. It was an open invitation and he knew it.

"Depends on where you want it."

He snorted and turned back to his bike, picking up a wrench from the tools strewn on the ground around him. Being slightly clueless when it came to bikes, Anaria leaned back against the hood of a nearby car and watched him work. The sultry heat of the night made her jeans and short clingy, but she didn't mind. It was worth it to see him, for once, content. The only other time he ever seemed that way was in a fight. They were too damned alike in that respect; adrenaline junkies, warriors, any of the cheesy labels a mind could come up with.

As he moved, the muscles in his back bulged and rippled, causing a different kind of heat to begin to pool low in her belly. She felt her nipples tighten as he leaned back and stretched, giving her a tiny glimpse of his abdomen. Damn the man, he was taunting her. She saw him smirk, but she wasn't done for yet.

"It looks like Ah'm gonna have ta go shoppin' tomorrow," she said casually.

He turned around fully to reply, but the words died in his throat as his eyes zeroed in on her chest. Anaria gave a smirk of her own as the realization dawned on him that she wasn't wearing anything underneath her clothes. She barely heard the clang of the wrench hitting the floor before his hand was in her hair, pulling her head back roughly and his mouth capturing hers.

She could feel the muscles of his chest against hers and she made a small mewing sound at the combination of his lips and his body against hers. He bent her back against the hood of the car and Anaria had just enough mind left to pull up her shields so they wouldn't be seen or heard. She felt his other hand snake between them and under her shirt as his mouth continued to wreak havoc on her own. She sucked on his lower lip in appreciation as his hand cupped her breast and arched her back towards his touch.

He passed his thumb over her taut nipple, making her moan, then made her jump when he tweaked it. He growled into her mouth and she shivered in response, their bodies already moving. She made another small noise, this time in surprise as he ripped her shirt clean off. His mouth blazed down her neck, her throat, her collarbone, leaving a trail of wet fire. She was panting like she had run for miles, her chest heaving against his face. Logan gave her a predatory smile, loving the effect he had on her.

His hands roamed her body, relishing the contrast of soft skin and lean muscle. He continued to move downward, making tiny bites before soothing them with his tongue. As he reached her breast, he pulled the hard bud into his mouth and suckled greedily, feeling his body harden at her cry of pleasure. He massaged the other one as he continued to suckle on her, making her squirm. He switched and she threw her head back against the car, unable to control her movements anymore. She could feel his desire for her pressing urgently against her stomach and she reached down to stroke him.

He hissed in a breath as she rubbed him through the denim and he pulled back to look down at her writhing form. Sweet Jesus, but she was incredibly sexy. His eyes raked over her, taking in her full breasts and flat stomach. He watched his hands stroke her belly, down to the waistline of her jeans. He looked at her face, questioning. She nodded and he covered her body with his again, groaning at the slickness of her chest against his.

He slid one hand down below her waist as they kissed, then stopped cold as his fingers continued to only feel smooth skin. _She had no underwear._ Anaria watched the play of emotions in his eyes, a vague feeling of feminine pride welling up as they completely darkened. His mouth was everywhere, and before she knew what was happening, he had moved them into the passenger side of the car. He leaned the seat back as she straddled him, her jeans having been shredded somewhere in between.

Logan could smell her damp heat and it was driving him insane. She gave him a look that made his toes curl as she slowly slid a finger along her slit, then brought it to her lips. Savagely, he pulled her towards him, his mouth fastened to one pink nipple as his hand dove into her folds. He heard her cry out when his fingers found her entrance and began to pump, fast and hard. He felt her body trembling and he growled low in his throat. With his other hand, he guided hers to the fly of his jeans.

Anaria managed to unzip him and pulled his pulsing member put, stroking him. His eyes rolled back in his head as he left it fall against the seat. With her other hand, she fumbled with the button of his pants, but to little avail.

"Fuck, Anaria, I want you now!"

With sudden, desperate inspiration, she squeezed his shaft hard and he yelled before releasing his claws. With two quick swipes, his pants were gone and she rubbed her slick folds against his hardness. Impatient, Logan grabbed her hips and lifted her slightly, then slammed into her. She shrieked at the thickness of him as he pierced deep inside her. Panting, he looked into her wild eyes.

"You ok?"

She nodded, unable to speak, and leaned forward, her breasts pressed against his chest. She kissed him heatedly.

"Move dammit."

"Yes Ma'am."

Even before the words got out, she rocked her hips against him, squeezing her inner muscles and Logan groaned. He pumped into her, his strokes even and hard, like a well-oiled piston. She could feel the wave of her climax building inside her as he moved. The car was rocking, but neither of them cared. With a few more strokes, she hit her peak, and a scream tore from her throat, his name tumbling from her lips like a mantra. As her muscled contracted around his cock rhythmically, he felt it tighten, then burst. Logan swore he saw stars before she collapsed against him.

Lazily, he wrapped one arm around her and put the other behind his head. They lay there for what seemed like hours; languid as a cat, she lifted off his chest for a moment and wiggled her bottom playfully. He arched a brow at her.

"What? Not satisfied, woman?"

She laughed softly, then leaned close to whisper in his ear,

"Hardly. Think you can handle round two?"

He answered her without saying a word.


	16. Chapter 15

_BEEP!! BEEP!!BE—CRASH!_

"Bloody piece of aggravatin' horse shit."

It never ceased to amaze Logan how creative Anaria's language could be in the mornings. He knew she could be grouchy when the cheery yellow orb cast its smiling beams into her comfortably dark world, but it was funny as hell when she threatened it with a shotgun for its, as she put it, "fuckin bouncin' ball of sunshininess". He wasn't a morning person either, but waking up with her made it more bearable. He grinned into her tangled curls and pulled her warm body closer to his chest. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the scent of her raspberry shampoo, enjoying the moment.

All too soon, though, she groaned loudly and drug herself upright, stretching like a cat and blinking owlishly. If Logan thought he could get away with it with his balls intact, he would have told her how cute a picture she made. Instead, he rose and went into her bathroom to run her a hot shower. She followed him, kissing his shoulder as a thank you. Logan watched her as she let the water cascade down her body and he was sorely tempted to jump in with her and make them both late.

In fact, he had finished brushing his teeth and he reasoned that it simply wouldn't do to go to class smelling like sex. Of course, he knew full well that none of the students would notice, much less dare to make a comment, but he ignored that detail. Smug with his logical conclusion, he stepped into the shower behind Anaria and placed his hands on her full hips, letting her feel his arousal against her butt. Growling as she washed her hair, she said over her shoulder,

"Move it or lose it, bub. I'm not going to be late again today."

Ignoring her, he slid one hand around to her stomach, then moved it downward till

His fingers were caressing her folds. She growled again in warning, but he just grinned broader and let his fingers start to rub against her clit. He could see how much it was affecting her by the way her body was relaxing, but he knew she wouldn't let him do more than play. With more than a tinge of regret, he moved his hand back up and simply hugged her from behind quickly, then moved her so he could wash himself.

Anaria snorted indignantly and hopped out, grabbing a warm, fluffy blue towel as she went. As she stepped into her bedroom, she froze. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up—bad sign. Nothing was out of place—another bad sign. Add those two bad signs to the fact that she could almost smell _his_ scent in the air and she was in triple dog doodoo, as her brothers would say.

"Logan, get in here!"

He was right beside her then, his eyes narrow. She was slightly distracted by the fact he was dripping wet and stark naked, but she push down her lust. He looked around and sniffed, then started growling.

"_He's_ been here. That son of a bitch has been here!"

Feeling her stomach lurch, she covered her mouth and tried to calm down. Logan looked at her sharply, disturbed at the fear that rolling off of her in waves. He darted to the open window and sniffed again. He knew his quarry was long gone, but the fact that he had slipped into Anaria's bedroom so easily and under his nose to boot was almost as chilling to him as her terror. Frustrated, he turned back to her and he saw that her face had become nearly ashen. She sank to her knees, murmuring repeatedly, "no,no,no,no, oh no…" Logan crossed to her and ran his hands along her back soothingly.

He knew that with her military background, she had to have come across that monster, but he couldn't stop the question,

"You know Saber tooth?"

She didn't speak for long minutes, fighting back the overwhelming nausea and fright that threatened to consume her. She looked up at him and he was stricken dumb by what she said.

" He's my dad, Logan..._Victor Creed is my father!_"

**_A/N: _Alrighty, the next chapter will be up in a day or so to further explain this new development. I appreciate all the support you, the readers, have given me as the story unfolds both for you and for me. I apologize for taking so long to update, but school and personal demands have kept me extremely busy. I hope this will whet your appetites for the next chappie and please keep giving the feedback, it's really helpful to me!!**


	17. Chapter 16

Logan couldn't talk. He was numb; with shock, rage, he wasn't exactly sure. He had gotten dressed almost mechanically. Professor X had sensed their distress and had immediately canceled classes for the day. He made sure all the adult mutants would be present as he summoned them to his office. Storm watched Anaria's face anxiously as the younger woman strode into the room, stormy eyes blazing with fury. She slapped her hands on the Professor's desk, making everyone except Logan jump. She leaned forward and hissed,

"Ah wanna know how that bastard got into mah room and Ah wanna know now."

Logan nodded curtly, his face tense with suppressed anger. The Professor looked at him coolly.

"You of all people, Logan should know the answer to that."

Logan shook his head and jerked it towards Anaria.

"Ask his daughter."

She sucked in a breath at the venom in his words, then replied tightly,

"If I knew how the fuck he could have pulled that off, I wouldn't be asking, Logan."

He didn't reply, so she looked back up at Xavier. His gaze remained calm and nonjudgmental.

"It is not your fault how or by whom you were born, my dear."

She tossed her head and stood straight, crossing her arms beneath her breasts.

"I told you, Professor, I was born in blood. I guess I was conceived in it too."

She shot a look at Logan, but he wouldn't return her gaze. Focusing her anger on him, she gripped his chin and forced him to look eyes with her.

"He raped mah mama, Logan. Ah'm a bastard."

Logan's expression was still skeptical, but of what she wasn't entirely sure. At a loss for words, she simply moved away from him and leaned against the far wall. For many minutes, there was silence; and then Xavier answered the question that was on everyone's mind.

"It is imperative that we discover Saber tooth's objective. I have no doubts that he is working for Magneto, but I highly doubt that this was a mission. The circumstances are fairly clear that he was after something."

Anaria took a deep breath, much calmer.

"In all honesty, I think that he was just trying to scare me. He's always enjoyed doing that, especially to his kids."

Logan finally looked at her with a mixture of contempt and sympathy.

"You're not the only one?"

She gave him a half smile.

"Surely you haven't forgotten my sister so quickly?"

He shook his head as her face became distant.

"I have several half-siblings that I know of, probably more than that. Wyn was the only one by Creed I was raised with. He left her on our porch one night. I guess he was trying to get rid of her, I don't know. Either way, we moved right after that and took her with us. The others I met through the military, except for two of my brothers. They're my mama and her husband's kids. I joined the military just to learn how to kill the sumbitch if I ever got the chance; learned what I needed to know too."

Xavier nodded and gave her an encouraging smile.

"Whether you know it or not, you have given us some important information. If Saber tooth has an interest in you, then we may have an advantage. By the way, Anaria, there is someone here to see you. Ah, here he is."

In walked a tall, good-looking man. He had a deep tan, chestnut hair, and pale green eyes. Anaria ran and threw herself into his arms, laughing and crying at once. She didn't see the flash of jealousy cross Logan's face. He moved to her when the young man put her back on her feet and possessively put his arm around her waist. She beamed up at him.

"Logan, this is my older brother. Tom, this is my boyfriend, Logan."

Tom stuck his hand out and nodded to Logan, who warily shook the younger man's hand. They gripped for perhaps longer than was necessary and Anaria rolled her eyes at their blatant pissing contest. Impatient, she jabbed her elbow into Logan's side and he grunted, then let go. She made introductions around the room, then sat on the edge of the desk to give her brother a questioning look. He nodded to her, putting his big hands in his pockets.

"I was tracking him, Nari; made it here before I lost him."

"Is John with you?"

"Yeah, he's scouting through Bayville, but I hope he doesn't find him. If he does, that's a really bad sign."

Anaria lowered her eyes to stare at the floor and bit her lip.

"Wyn's here too, Tom."

Tom's eyes widened as he looked around the room for confirmation. Storm said,

"It is true. She nearly killed Anaria."

The Professor wheeled forward.

'We are grateful to your sister for keeping the children safe. She acted as a decoy so that no one would be harmed."

Tom raised an eyebrow and laughed, albeit with a touch of grimness.

"Neither of my sisters is easy to kill, though they've damn near tried everything."

Anaria said nothing, but looked at Logan, who was smiling slightly. She smiled back from behind her whiskey brown curls. His eyes held a promise that he would be around for a discussion later. For now, that promise was more than enough. She looked back at her brother, a calculating gleam in her eyes.

"It bothers me to think that Wyn and Creed might be working together. That would mean either they've reached an understanding or Magneto's keeping Wyn's wrath in check. That won't last long, with her temper and I would bet that it won't take much for her to try and kill him. I could believe that she was born to do just that."

Hank McCoy looked at her with interest.

"What makes you say that, young lady?"

Anaria shook her head, curls bouncing with her movements.

"Wyn's and my powers manifested almost entirely due to our father. I tried to escape my heritage, but she wanted to destroy it. Add that to the fact that she's alot like him in more than one way; she's pragmatic, she's bloodthirsty and she's incredibly strong, hence her name, Barbarian."

The Professor nodded.

"And hence why you took your name; you wanted to fade."

_In more than one way, it seems._

She gave him a mental shrug, but on the outside her face was hard.

"It doesn't look like I can fade away anymore."


	18. Chapter 17

**_A/N: Allo all, and welcome to the next exciting installment. Please enjoy, read, and review. Hopefully the next chapter will be up within the next week or two, provided the great muse gives me enough inspiration to write. Chao!_**

Hank McCoy looked up suddenly, his eyes having been closed in concentration. He had been listening intently, but something was distracting him. A scent, familiar, metallic, but fleeting, like it was moving. His gaze met Logan's, who nodded, indicating he smelled it too. Anaria caught them sharing that knowing look and she turned to him sharply.

"What do you guys smell?"

Tom cocked his head curiously at his sister and snorted.

"Just how do you know that they smell anything?"

"Because otherwise we would have known about it, they're the only ones who would notice a scent."

Logan and Hank both glanced at her and smiled toothily, giving her the impression of a predator's fanged grin, but she ignored it. Instead, she rose and unsheathed her knives, the hairs on the back of her neck rising. The others felt it too and the Professor immediately began a psychic scan of the property. Tom retrieved the pistol from the waistband of his jeans and checked the clip before snapping it back into place.

"Storm, would you please give us a fog bank, my dear?"

Her eyes glazed over to a silvery hue just the lawn also became obscured. It was a moment later when Anaria and Tom looked at one another, seeing pain mirrored in the other's features. His legs were longer, but his sister was only two steps behind him as they sprinted to the front door. They could smell it now; a hot, musky scent mixed with blood—Saber tooth. The front doors flew open as they burst through them. They spread out and Anaria felt Logan move beside her, claws out. He nodded to her and she put up her silence field then faded from view.

Logan loped along the grass, following the scent. He spotted Hank with Tom moving east and smelt Storm as she flew past to check the fences. Anaria's scent mingled with that of Saber tooth's and he was disturbed at how difficult it was becoming to distinguish the two. He had never noticed how similar they were, the exception being that the coppery odor of blood was muted around Anaria, less pervasive. The smell grew stronger as they neared the gate and he heard her catch her breath. Something gave her the speed to outrun him, because she was suddenly popped into sight ahead of him. That was when he saw it too.

The boy couldn't have been much older than Scott, 22 at the most. He had eyes like Anaria, a piercing grey, except his were empty now. Blood coated much of his face and chest, and Logan felt his stomach roll when he got close enough to get a good look at the extent of his injuries. The guy had been nearly gutted, the body mutilated by what could be interpreted as a large predator. There were claw and bite marks all over him; he had apparently given his attacker one hell of a fight and someone definitely wanted them to see the body. It had been placed, like it was on display, propped against the wrought iron. Anaria knelt beside it, reaching out to the boy with a shaking hand. Gently, she ran fingers through dark brown curls and Logan was struck by how much they favored. Feeling really sick now as the pieces tumbled into place, he struggled to find something, anything to say that would comfort her. But he knew from experience that there was absolutely nothing.

She bowed her head and he could see her shoulders shaking too as her hands pulled the dead man's head close to her chest, and blood covered her. It was on her face, her shirt, her hands--like some kind of awful, horrifying baptism. He felt the rage building inside him, burning like acid through his veins. But it was she who howled first. Her scream of rage, agony, and despair could be heard across the estate, making Tom stand still, making his heart pounding in dread. He knew, without any doubt, what had happened to his kid brother. Grinding his teeth, he signaled Hank to follow him towards where the scream had come from.

Anaria screamed again and Logan felt like howling with her, but he was silent. Something was happening. It was more than loss and fury that was causing her pain; she had channeled it deep into her very being and she was changing. Her eyes began to become less human, something primal having been unleashed behind the grey depths. She snarled as her canines lengthened and sharpened, her body jerking violently, Logan heard the distinct sound of bones snapping. She dug her hands into the crimson earth beside the corpse of her brother and hissed. Her pupils had become mere slits, her hair a tangled mane. Claws protruded from her fingertips, black as pitch, hard as diamonds and Logan knew that whatever this creature was that Saber tooth had created, he was going to regret it.

Those cat-like eyes moved over to Logan as he stood still. Her body undulated, moving slowly around her brother's corpse. He could hear a low growling and he growled back. Something flickered in her eyes and he knew that she recognized him, if only as someone non-threatening.

_Hey Chuck, I think we have a problem._

_I know, Logan, Anaria's in there, she's just been forced done by her rage._

_So how do we get her back?_

_We don't. She's fully aware of what's going on. Trust her, but keep a close eye on her. She's put up some impressive mental shields and it may take a while before I can break through them. Once I do, we can bring her back and formulate a plan of action. _

_Will do, Chuck._

His eyes had never left hers. She smiled and faded from view.

_Chuck, that may be more difficult than I initially anticipated. _

He could still smell her, a new musky scent that he found strangely arousing. Fastening onto that scent and trusting the Professor to let Hank and the others know what had happened, he dashed after her. From the speed of her movements he almost swore she was loping like a big cat across the lawn. He saw movement near the wall and watched as she flickered into view on top of the stone. She was crouching, black claws digging into the brick and he marveled at how the stone chipped beneath her hands. Her strength had increased dramatically, as had her speed and her senses. She was far more powerful in this form, but it was raw, uncontrolled. She was a fury that had been unleashed and he was having a hard time believing that Saber tooth couldn't take her down, despite her new capabilities.

He reached her just as the muscles in her legs began to tighten. He looked up at her.

"Anaria, baby, come down."

His voice was soft, like he was talking to a kitten. She cocked her head at him, a purring sound coming from deep within her throat. Hoping that somehow he was reaching her, he kept murmuring to her, coaxing her. She responded by pacing on top of the wall on all fours, like a caged tiger, watchful, distrusting, but listening.

"Sweetheart, please, don't do this. We have to go after him together."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Under normal circumstances, he'd be egging her on, right behind her, ready to jump into whatever trouble she wanted. But this was different. She was different. He had to be the level headed one for once. Can't say he enjoyed it much, but she needed him to be. He could see in her eyes that she was two seconds from leaping off that wall and into what was probably going to be her death.

"I love you, Anaria. Please, come back to me."

She froze and he could almost hear her heart pounding as loudly as his. It seemed like hours before those damned slits in her eyes began to thicken and then round. Relief flooded through him as the woman he adored slowly bled through the furious feline. At the same time, he was worried as hell, which was something Logan just did not do. He was a man of action, not a thinker. Feelings for him were usually intense, but brief. This creature that she had evolved into was like nothing he had ever seen. Not even Saber tooth had lost his humanity to such a degree and it was a chilling thought.

Faster than a snake, he caught her as she swayed and fell. She landed in her arms just as Hank bounded up to them. He quickly looked them both over, checking for injuries, then sighed deeply.

"Charles told me what had happened. Tom is with their brother now. He's pretty shook up, as I'm sure Anaria is as well."

Logan glanced at him sideways as they began to move back towards the mansion and gave a grim chuckle.

"Hank, she's more than shook up."

"So I was told. Just what exactly was she planning on doing?"

Logan shook his head as he looked down at her unconscious form.

"She's changed, Hank. She's become something that's raw, but if she's trained properly, she could become possibly the best hunter ever known to man. It's not what she was planning on doing that should worry you. It's what she's going to do when she comes to."

Hank didn't respond, he knew exactly what it was that she was going to do. Anaria groaned loudly and stirred. Her eyes opened slowly and she gazed up at Logan. He knew by the look she gave him that she remembered everything that had happened. She turned her face into his chest and didn't notice the tears that were flowing down her cheeks. She whispered so softly that even his heightened hearing could barely make out her words, but he felt her nails dig into his shoulders and he winced, but not at the pain. It was the deadness in her voice when she spoke that made him uneasy.

"I'm going to make them all bleed."


	19. Chapter 18

**_A/N: Be warned, this is a lemony chapter!! Read, review, and enjoy :D_**

"Dammit woman, listen to me! If you go back out there, you're gonna be just as dead as your brother."

Anaria wasn't listening. Hell, she was barely processing thoughts, much less anything Logan had to say to her. Her mind was almost blank, her only defense against the beast that had been unleashed. Shuddering at the thought of how closely similar she now was to Sabertooth, she quickened her pace. Logan easily keep up with her as she tore down the hallway towards their bedroom, despite her recently acquired speed. He knew exactly what she was after, but he himself was torn between stopping her and helping her gut the sumbitch. Curls flying wildly behind her, Anaria moved through the room and into her closet, not bothering to turn on the light. The military had instilled an instinct into her to know exactly where her weapons were at any given moment. Logan lost count of the knives she pulled from various articles of clothing, making a mental note to check more closely the next time even if she was stark naked. Firmly, he took hold of her wrist and shook her lightly.

"Anaria, stop for one damned minute and just think about what you're doin'."

Jerking away like he had burned her, she stubbornly moved past him and to her side of the bed. She retrieved both her of her 9mm, their cold steel kissing the palms of her hands as she slid them into her shoulder holsters. She wouldn't think, she refused it. To think would mean to remember and that was a place she was unwilling to go. But Logan wouldn't let her be. He couldn't...He couldn't watch her walk out of that door knowing full well she probably wasn't going to come back unless it was in a pine box. Feeling cornered, he slammed the door shut and had leaped across the bed before she had registered the movement. His hands gripping her shoulders tightly, he stood nose to nose with her, furious blue eyes meeting dead grey ones.

"If you go into that base, you're not going to leave any witnesses, no one to know what you'll have done. You'll slaughter all of them and still sleep like a baby because you'll have felt avenged. And then more will die, because it gets easier to justify the blood, the death. You can excuse it, pretend its for a greater cause, but in the end, blood, for whatever reason its spilt, is still blood. John's dead. His corpse will still be six feet under whether you destory Creed or not and tombstones don't accept apologizes or give them."

He saw something flicker to life then; a tiny spark of life in the blackness. He knew she was going to kill her father whether it was right or not, but maybe now she'd wait until she was ready. She needed time both to train her new abilities and to accept them and he figured that the latter was probably going to take a helluva lot longer than they had.

----------------------------------------------------

Anaria could feel his eyes on her, their hot gaze burning into her back, devouring her. The panting stink of his breath filled her nostrils, making her want to gag. Mentally shifting gears, she moved from a loping gait to an outright sprint, relishing in the burning ache of her calves. To feel pain is to be alive and she planned to keep it that way. She skidded hard to the right, ducking behind an air conditioning unit. Taking a large gulp of air while desperately trying to keep down the dry heaves (no small feat), she darted towards the edge of the building. Muscles tightening, she sprang as her feet left the concrete edge of the roof. Her stomach plummeted, then jolted as she crunched down on the gravel rooftop. She felt the sharp stings as the tiny rocks bit into her palms and she grinned. He had stopped at the edge behind her, crouched, sniffing the chilled air. Even as it burned its way into her lungs, she reveled in it. For the first time in a month, _the smell of blood had evaporated. _There was no fear, no anger; there was only the hunt and he knew that he was about to become the prey.

He was hesitating, trying to weigh his options, but that was a mistake. Long ago, her grandmother had taught her how to shoot, but never to aim. If you had time to aim, you had time to die. Spinning on her heel, Anaria bolted back towards him and made what could only have been described as an impossible leap. Slamming into the wall she latched her claws into the brick, creating handholds as she raced up the side of the structure. Stunned, Sabertooth never moved, even when the obsidian nails slashed violently through his throat. He was dead before he ht the grave. Panting, Anaria stood over the corpse of her father, but she didn't see him. She could only stare at the crimson dripping from her fingertips. As she turned her hands over, they reversed to dribble down her arm.

"Born in blood...", she murmured. She watched that fist clench and breathed in the coppery scent, allowing herself a brief moment to savor it. Just then, the lights flickered and her hand was as clean as when she had stepped out of the shower that morning. She turned to see Logan watching her with a smirk.

"Think you're ready, darlin'?"

She arched a brow and put a hand on her left hip, then shrugged.

"The only ones who are ever ready are the rookies."

He grinned ferally and held out a hand, his blue eyes smouldering sensuously.

"That's answer enough."

Grinning back, she took his offered hand and stepped into his arms, letting the heat of his body and his kisses engulf her. Pushing him back against the doorjam, she responded almost viciously and Logan felt his body tighten as she growled into his mouth. His own inner beast rising, he slammed a fist into the buttons, effectively shutting down the Danger Room. Instant darkness enveloped them, but that didn't matter. They could see well enough without light and what Logan saw made him rock hard. Her hair was a mass of wild curls, as untamed as the storm that raged in her eyes. Her lips were red and swollen from his bruising kisses. A deep sound reverberated from her throat and he realized she was actually purring as his hands ripped her clothing to pieces and roughly stroked the soft flesh beneath. His need growing by the second, he pulled her hips forward and ground the soft heat of her womanhood against his groin. Something in her gave because suddenly her claws had extended and were currently digging into his shoulders as he continued to ravish her body with his hands and mouth. He pulled on her curls, bending her back to suckle her breasts eagerly. She gasped as she felt his hot tongue roll first one nipple, then the other, teeth nipping a thin line between pain and pleasure.

She slashed downwards, claws shredding his t-shirt, deliciously scratching his muscled body. She bit his neck lightly, signaling her desire. He stood still as she rubbed her bare curves against him, loving the feel of his chiseled form against her own. Her lips blazed a wet trail downwards, to flick first at his hardened nipple, then further, dancing across his washboard abs, her hands busily feeling every inch of toned skin she could find. She reached his belly button, raining kisses on down till she found the low slung waistband of his jeans. He watched heatedly as that small, pink tongue dipped into the denim and her hand firmly stroked him, making him shiver and close his eyes, the image making him want to lost it right there. Then he felt that tightness in his crotch give way, to be replaced with a hotter, damper one. He gasped when she sucked hard on his cock, his eyes popping open at the intensity of his pleasure. She grinned up at him.

"That was to get your attention."

He was impressed that she could even speak at this point. She squeezed him with her hand and slowly licked at the tip, her eyes never leaving his and Logan swore that he had never experienced anything as erotic as watching her small tongue caress his throbbing member. She moaned and the vibrations combined with the warmth of her tongue on him sent him over the edge. He shoved her head onto his cock and pumped deep into her mouth, savoring the feeling, but it wasn't enough. Anaria barely had time to register that he had just destroyed another good pair of jeans before he had her flush against the wall, her hands bracing her as ran his fingers over her clit, rubbing her moist slit from behind. He leaned in close, his body scorching hers.

"It's my turn to play, darlin'."

She growled in reply and arched her back, causing the head of his cock to slip inside her. He hissed and jerked back as she chuckled.

"Then play, dammit."

He didn't make a response, except to grip her hips roughly and slam into her searing heat. God, she was so slick. He felt her walls contract around him, her soft whimpers of approval all the encouragement he needed. He withdrew, then slammed into her again, making them both groan. He pounded into her, lightly nipping at the back of her neck, thrusting harder and faster with each moan, each tumbling of his name from her lips. He could feel her tensing as she neared her peak. Anaria was lost, riding wave after wave of a sweet warmth that was pooling swiftly as he moved. Then, just when she thought she would shatter from the intensity of it, she climaxed, feeling him come right behind her. As he exploded inside her, it doubled the sensation, making her scream his name as her body convulsed. Panting heavily, he leaned over her, softly placing kisses along her shoulder, then gently laid his forehead against her neck, their bodies slick with sweat. As they slid to the floor in exhaustion, he started to laugh quietly. With great effort, she turned to him and gave him a questioning look. He couldn't help but smile as he ran a finger down her cheek.

"Rookie, indeed."


End file.
